


If You Give a Pig a Detective

by babaileymay



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Crack, Crack Fic, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, I have no plan, John Mulaney References, M/M, Near Death Experiences, PTSD, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Slow Burn, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, The multiverse, noir is an angsty shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babaileymay/pseuds/babaileymay
Summary: Spider-Noir hates to admit it... but he misses his fellow Spider-Lings. They may have been strangers but they all shared the sense of duty and responsibility that carries them through life.So when he goes up to fight a couple Nazis and reunites with his friends along the way, well, he isn't complaining.





	1. If You Give a Pig a Detective

When Peter Benjamin Parker was four years old, his parents left him at his aunt and uncles home. “It will be temporary,” they said, eyes laced with sadness. Money was tight, and food was becoming a rarity. They had to make sacrifices, and one of them was losing the opportunity of raising their dear Peter. “We’ll be back for you in no time,” Mama reassured him. 

Peter eyed Mama, skeptical of her promise. The young boy watched as his parents walked out of the door and into the harsh, grim streetlight of the Lower East Side. Mama and Papa both hurried along, hands tight on their small suitcases. 

Before they turned a corner, Peter’s mother turned around to see him one last time. A color he would later identify as blue stood out in contrast to the rest of her. A tear. He waved goodbye. Three days later, they received news that both his parents were dead. Mob violence. Peter would wonder later in life if this made his love for fighting crime that much stronger. 

NEW YORK 1937 

Noir knew better than to get attached to people. Throughout his life, loss has become his motivator. The Great Depression had not been kind, and the people reflect that. In his world, color is gone. It’s almost as if when hope left the people, the colors were washed out, leaving grey. When Noir was swept into another universe- one with color- he had no idea what to do. It was not just the color, however. The way the blokes and dames looked so carefree. It was the effect of a kinder world, he assumed. He had tried not to get attached to the fellow Spider-lings. 

Of course, he failed. Why is it that the people who are only meant to be temporary bring you the most grief? Noir closed his eyes for a moment. He was sat at Uncle Ben’s grave. _At least Ben has a grave_ , he thought bitterly. He felt strange mourning friends that were still alive. Weird to shed tears for people merely in other universes. 

“Loss,” he whispered to himself “is slowly becoming my only constant.” He traced Uncle Benjamin’s name one more time, then pulled on his mask. He had work to do. The Second World War was raging and Peter had some Nazis to punch. 

🕷️🕷️🕷️ 

It was rare that Peter got time to himself. “You gotta treat yo’ self sometimes, man,” as Miles had once said. 

Stakeouts, while usually boring, gave him this much needed time. Currently, perched on top of the headquarters of the German American Bund- a Nazi party stationed in New York. While waiting for people to float out of the building and drip out info that Spider-Man could follow up on later, he read The Great Gatsby. He pondered Gatsby’s obsession with Daisy. _How did it feel dying for her sins as if he were some martyr?_ Peter thought angrily. _How could Daisy be so selfish? Knowing Gatsby had given everything and she will continue to give nothing_. He refused to acknowledge the parallels between Gatsby’s love for Daisy and his love for New York. Selfish, foolish, based on an idea. 

The faint creak of an opening door followed by whispers pulled Peter out of his thoughts. 

“I can’t do this, Greg. I can’t.” 

“Too bad, boss chose you to test the machine.” 

_The machine?_ Noir thought, gazing down at the pair of men. 

“I got kids…” 

“Either you let him use you for the experiment or ya go home in a Chicago overcoat. Your choice pal. Start pickin out ya coffins now if you ain’t gonna do it.” 

With that, the scum stomped off, shadowed by his rather moody friend. Spider-Noir sighed. _Of_ course _there is a mysterious machine,_ he thought. He grumbled under his breath and slipped off into the night. 

🕷️🕷️🕷️ 

It was raining cats and dogs when Peter returned to the Nazi’s headquarters. If he was more inclined to poetics he might connect his fate with the rain. It was always cloudy, dark, but it never rained. Maybe this was a sign of his fated misfortune. But Peter did not give a damn about poetry. He just wanted to punch something. 

The third floor was quiet. The lights flickered in warning. “Go away,” they seemed to say “save yourself.” Noir shivered. 

He crept down the hall, diving behind conveniently placed boxes when he heard voices down the hall. As the people drew closer, Noir leaned back further. They passed with no suspicion. “This seems too easy,” he mumbled. 

Noir made his way to move from his hiding place, swiftly moving towards the door at the end of the hall. Machinery hummed behind the door. He slipped inside. 

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout…” 

Noir looked up. Well, this is definitely a trap. 

The dark, musty room made his senses itch. Adrenaline began to pump through his veins. 

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out…” 

He made his way to the middle of the room, where a huge machine lay. It was huge. Copper with pipes reaching the ceiling. There were so many buttons the detective got a headache just looking at it. 

“Out came the sun and dried out all the rain…” 

Noir reached out and touched the machine. It whirred in response to his touch. A small needle reached out of the machine and pricked his finger. He sucked his index finger and glared at the machine. It hummed and beeped until it made a small ‘ding’. 

“And the itsy bitsy spider went up the spout again…” 

“Quite a sad story if you think about it,” a voice echoed throughout the room. “The spider keeps trying and trying, but it never gets anywhere. Never makes a difference.” 

Noir circled around, looking for the voice’s source. It giggled. “Oh, brave little spider, don’t you worry your sweet little head.” The machine began to open up, copper giving way to steel. The machine began to take the shape of a doorway. “You see, you’ve been pestering us too much lately, bub,” the doorway began to glow. “And we thought if we can’t kill ya, what’s the next best thing? Well, Spider-Man… have I got the treat for you.” 

“I suggest you turn all this off before I knock the daylights outta you,” Noir shouted over the machine. The doorway’s glow brightened until it could be compared with the sun. Various shades of grey, black, and white swirled around each other. Noir looked away from it. His spider senses tingled. “Watch Out!” His senses screamed at him. He was too late. Three men had already grabbed him and pulled him towards the swirling lights. He kicked at them, but they did not budge. The goons seemed to be super-human. 

“I suggest you tuck and roll, Spider-Dick.” The goons threw him into the portal. 

_Maybe_ , Noir thought bitterly, _this is how my affair with loss ends. I finally am on the receiving end._

He plunged into darkness.


	2. He Will Want to Say Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noir shows back up in Miles' New York. Ham makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you so much for all the positive feedback I've gotten. The only reason I'm motivated to put up this next chapter is your amazing responses. Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoy.

When I am afraid, I put my trust in You  
Psalm 56:3

 

Why is he not surprised when he wakes up in a graveyard? 

Tension coiled under Noir’s skin as he lifted himself up from the ground. The pain was blunt, easy to handle. Less like a stab wound more like a punch to the gut. 

He chuckled bitterly when he got himself to his feet. Colors. Endless colors. He even landed in the same spot he did last time. This was Miles’New York. Maybe some higher power heard of how his heart ached to see one of his- acquaintances? friends?- fellow Spider-Lings. There was only one way to tell. 

Noir quickly found himself at the stoop of Aunt May’s porch. His Aunt May was a kind woman. The trait seemed to be a constant in all of the Aunt Mays across the multiverse. 

Noir’s May was followed by a dark shadow. The losses that haunted her seemingly taking up physical form. Despite this, her gentleness remained. Peter had made it his goal to protect that. Innocently loving was so hard to come by where he was from.  
So when Vulture kidnapped her-well it wasn’t pretty. He killed Vulture. Maybe it was revenge for Uncle Ben’s murder. A way to stop Vulture from mutilating his aunt the way his uncle was. A way to retaliate against his losses. Vulture became the Reaper of his loved ones, and Peter had the chance to kill him. So he did.

Even though his aunt was thankful to him, May belittled Noir for killing the Vulture. 

“Killing people makes you less human,” she said. “What’s the point of wanting justice if you plan on being judge, jury, and executioner?” 

Regret wasn’t a strong enough word for how he felt after he disappointed May. He felt like a wretched beast. 

Aunt May- not his Aunt May, Peter reminded himself -opened the door. 

She raises a curious brow. “This again?”

Noir shrugs sheepishly. “Spider-People tend to have an inclination towards danger.”

“Don’t I know it.” She sighed and led him inside. 

“Tea?” She asked absentmindedly. 

Noir nodded. 

While Aunt May milled about, Noir glared at his hands. 

“My Peter did the same thing you know.” May set the tea-black, no sugar- down on a coaster next to Noir. “When he thought too much, he stared at his hands like they kicked his puppy.”  
She sat next to him and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.  
“What’s bothering you, hon?”

Noir looked embarrassed. “I have no clue,” his voice filtered through the air.

“No clue, huh?” She parrots. He nods awkwardly.  
“I have a feeling you’re lying, but I’ll let it slide for now.” 

Silence filled the space. Not uncomfortable but not cozy, either. 

Aunt May fluttered about, adjusting this and that. The comforting sounds of her shoes clicking on the floor nearly made Noir forget where he was. Nearly. 

His Aunt May- Noir May? -was always overly attentive when it came to Peter. Kids grew up too fast where he came from. But May had tried her damnedest to stop that from happening to her nephew. 

She took up extra work shifts at factories. She worked long days and even longer nights. Peter was infinitely grateful for his Aunt. Never could anyone radiate kindness the way she did.  
Peter wondered why she would waste her time on him. 

Noir sipped at his tea. “Why do you love Peter?” Why do you love me? He wanted to ask his aunt. But she wasn’t here, so her clone would have to be a replacement. 

May stilled for a moment. She closed her eyes as if to contemplate.  
“Because he- and every version of him I have met- saw the good in people. Even when there was none he fought to make the world a bit better. He would never hesitate to help others, ever. That’s a difficult trait to find now.” She turned to  
Noir. “You have that too, even if you aren’t my Peter, you have the heart he does.” 

Noir chuckled darkly.  
“Possibly.”

He ignored how his brokenness seeped into his bones.

🕷 🕷 🕷 

The smell of ozone woke him up. He slept. Napped, he thinks. All he knows is he is groggy and his senses are tingling.

It’s 5:37 pm. The clock hanging above the TV ticks.  
Two people spoke in hushed voices in the kitchen. Noir could not focus enough to hear them.  
He peeked over the couch and into the kitchen to catch a glimpse of the pair.  
“Noir! You’re up!” Miles ran up to the detective and enveloped him in a hug. 

That had not been the reaction Peter had been expecting. Usually, when people see him, they’re overcome with murderous rage. Not a need to hug. Maybe Miles was planning on strangling him? 

“I have to much to tell you. I defeated the Goblin and I punched Fisk in the face and I saved my dad and New York then my dad again and I-“  
“Woah there, kiddo. Slow down. You’re gonna lose your lungs,” Noir said fondly. 

Miles beamed before a frown took over his face.  
“What’s up, champ?” Noir questioned, concern clouding his features. 

“I, uh... I don’t mean to sound like I don’t want you here, but why’d you come?” 

“It wasn’t exactly a choice, pal.” Noir brought his situation to light. The Nazis. The machine. How they basically made a game of cat and mouse and turned out on top. “Shoulda known it was a trap, really. You’d think I would be able to figure that out. So much for my detective skills.”

“Hey, man. Don’t be so hard on yourself. We Spider-People may look perfect, but we aren’t. We’re just as human as everybody else.” 

‘Killing people makes you less human’ May’s voice echoed through his head. 

“Exactly, bud. Just as human,” he smiled weakly, but behind the mask, it just looked like his cheeks twitched. 

🕷 🕷 🕷 

Miles fell asleep in a pile of order-in Chinese food. He rambled for a fair amount of time before digging in and falling asleep. Despite the energy Miles had, though, it was obvious he was exhausted. The bags under his eyes seemed to weigh him down like bricks. While Noir was here, he promised himself he would make sure to take care of the kid and ensure he would be well rested. It was the least he could do for a companion. 

Noir rested a blanket around the shoulders of the sleeping boy. He combed back a few strands of the kid’s dark hair and rose to his feet.  
“God I’m getting soft,” he mumbled to himself. Peter did not understand what was wrong with him. 

“Loving make the heart softer, Peter.” Aunt May descended down the stairs, a stern look on her face. “You don’t have to punish yourself for that.”

“Yes, but losing the ones you love makes your heart turn to steel, Mrs,” he counters.

“Steel can be bent. Don’t spend your life pushing people away only for you to wonder why you didn’t love harder in the end. It may not seem like it, but life is short. Love with all you have. I’m glad my Peter got that memo,” Aunt May whispered, holding a photo of Mary Jane and this dimensions Peter. 

“The people I love end up dying. No point in risking them.”  
“If I ever talk to the May from your universe I’m gonna tell her to smack this angst out of you. You deserve happiness, numbskull.”

Noir nodded, simultaneously feeling guilt and enchantment at Aunt May’s words. It doesn’t feel like I deserve anything.

Let us learn to show our friendship to a man when he is alive and not after he is dead Noir’s mind quoted.  
He wished he had the sense to not read The Great Gatsby. It really calls out his hypocrisy. 

Miles snored loudly. 

🕷 🕷 🕷 

Peter Porker had been terrified at the prospect of a Pork Grind tearing up the town. And rightly so, the dumb pig would take up so much of his pie time. 

“You do know you’re cutting into some of my most valuable time here, pal,” Spider-Ham said and smacked Pork Grind in the face with a mallet.

Strangely enough, that seemed only to make him madder. 

“Take this!”  
Smack  
“And that!”  
Whomp  
“And a little bit of this!”

Pork Grind growled at him. Well, tried to growl? Can pigs growl? It was more of a huff really. An angry huff. 

As Spider-Ham’s inner monologue rattled on, he continued fighting the dreaded piggy equivalent of Venom. 

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you just turned yourself in!” Ham shouted. Pork Grind had other plans. 

He ran straight at Spider-Ham. 

Now, usually as a superior being with Spider-Instincts you’d think Ham would dodge, right?  
Wrongo.  
Pork Grind flinged him across the street, and he landed in the bushes.  
“Oh you are going to regret that.”

His entire body turned red as he lifted a building up- cartoon logic never fails to amaze- and hurled it straight at his foe. 

“That’s what you get for messing with pie time you greedy fuck!”  
Not even five seconds after, Ham had floated to the nearest pie and began his ascent into heaven. 

Obviously, this is the time when the bad shit happens. Cartoon logic. Excellent but also cursed…

Ham had kept to himself when leaving his favorite bakery (Stairway to Leaven). Kept his head down in his pie, pigging out (pun intended) when a portal just showed up. In the middle of the sidewalk! Can you believe that? The middle of the sidewalk where people are walking. Stupid freaking portals with their random ominous glow. No one would be stupid enough to walk in Peter Porker thought, as he walked straight into the portal. 

“Fuck a duck.”

Darkness clouded his eyes until he could no longer see, and he fell into the abyss. 

🕷 🕷 🕷 

When they sent Miles home it was late. Noir felt guilty letting the kid swing away by himself, but he knew Miles could handle himself. 

“AAAAAHH,” someone screamed. Where is that coming from? 

A figure landed in the bushes in front of Aunt May’s house, and a tremendous thump followed.  
“That hurt like a motherfucker.”  
Noir recognized that voice... but from where?

“Whoa there don’t rush to help me up. Jerk.” They called sarcastically. 

“Porker? Is that you?”  
“Oh god... This again?”  
The pig stood up, stains- cherry pie? -covered his suit. “So the Spider-Crew is getting back together then? Excellent. I was wondering when I would see you guys again.”

Noir shifted and smiled- barely, but it was there. “Good to see you too, beat all pig.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked. A bit angsty but I attempted humor, you just gotta squint to see it. Kudos/Comment/Whatever. Ty for reading


	3. And You'll Want a Quiche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noir talks about his past and Ham hates how Noir says quiche.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for all the feedback. Even if its small, comments and kudos mean so much. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

The rich people not only had all the money, they had all the chance to get more; they had all the knowledge and the power, and so the poor man was down, and he had to stay down.- Upton Sinclair, The Jungle

Most kids who lived during The Great Depression depended on the kindness of the rich bluenosers for food. During Thanksgiving, when the wealthy felt the need to be generous, was when they gave the most. The streets were chock-full with children. Hungry but still smiling. They had next to nothing, but they made it work. 

Noir looked back on those times angrily.  
The rich scorned the impoverished. “Hunger,” one white collar newspaper had said “is unnecessary. There are charities. It seems these people suffer just to say they have done so.”  
_No,_ Nior scrutinized _we suffer because those who sit upon piles of gold are too infatuated with making more to see the rest of us are lying upon scraps._ He wished he could slap the pill who wrote it.

During the first visit to Miles‘ universe, Noir could not comprehend the differences between his New York and this place. He was in New York but not _his_ New York. Not the crime-ridden despairing place he tried to unshackle day after day. Color filled the world, and it just seemed so filled with _hope._

Noir wasn’t used to that. Noir was used to speakeasies, corruption, and mob violence. This New York, though, it had a constant haze of kindness surrounding it. The people may be selfish but they _cared_ about New York. They cared about the place they called home. Where Noir was from proud was the last thing a New Yorker would be. Hungry? Yes. Proud to be a New Yorker? No. Noir was confused. He did not understand how the world wasn’t so bleak. The sun slanted over the graveyard he had landed in such a way that the sky lit up in beautiful shades. He overlooked the fact that he didn’t know what the colors were called. In his mind, they didn’t need names. He perceived the colors as heaven and called them so. Later he would learn it was a delicious mixture of orange, red, and pink. He was proud of himself for learning the colors. 

Meeting all of the other Spiders created a sort of fool’s paradise for Noir. A temporary place of acceptance. Stolen moments of friendship between life or death. He could almost say he was happy to see them again. Almost. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

Noir and Ham sat in a restaurant. After May had left for work, they had decided to wander around New York to try to see if any other Spider-Lings had taken the plunge back into Miles’ universe.  
“This place reminds me of a diner I went to with my friend Mary Crane,” Ham randomly exclaimed. “It was called the Salt n’ Pepper Diner.”  
Noir frowned. “In my universe, every diner is a Salt n’ Pepper diner.”  
“Really? Is it because your universe is in black and white because that would make sense I mean-” the pig rambled on. Noir smirked a bit. He didn’t have his mask on to attempt to make himself look less suspicious.  
_Maybe even without the mask I look fishy… I am walking around with a talking pig after all._  
“Hey! Why you smirking, Sherlock?”  
“I was joking. Not all our diners are called Salt n’ Pepper. We're in black and white, but that doesn't make us that unimaginative,” Noir smiled.  
“Oh, you bastard. You did that just to make me look dumb.” The pig pouted and crossed his arms across his chest. _He looks weirdly adorable_ Noir thought before quickly shaking it away. _He’s just a friend_ he reminded himself. 

Shortly after Ham’s pouting, a waitress had come up to their table.  
“Can I help you two,” she swiftly glanced at Ham “uh… gentlemen?”  
“Yes, can I have two cherry pies, a hot dog- kosher of course -and whatever Edgar Allan Poe wants,” Ham said and sipped his water.

Noir shot a look towards his friend before he ordered. 

“Can I have a quickie please?”

The waitress gawked at him. Ham spit out his water. 

“You want a _what?_ ”

“You know… those egg pies?”

“You mean a fucking quiche?”

“Yes… that’s what I said, right?”

Noir turned to address the waitress, but she had already gone. 

“How in the hell do you confuse quickie with quiche. I swear to God I’m about to have a heart attack.”

The rest of lunch ends without incident. Occasionally, though, Ham would mutter “Quickie… what kind of idiot..” under his breath. 

_He’s angry at you for not understanding the slang,_ Noir thought and wrung his hands under the table. _Is he mad at me?_  
His partner- no, not partner… friend? -did not seem to be angry. In fact, he seemed perfectly content. Maybe quickie meant something strange? It wasn't slanged from his time, at least.  
Noir resolved to look it up later. 

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

When Noir was younger, he didn’t really have friends. He was a scrawny and quiet chump. He blended in easily. That’s probably why he was taken aback when the other Spider-People actively tried to talk to him. He wasn’t used to being significant, and it was dandy, but it made him scared. What if they realized he wasn’t worth the time of day? That even if he was like them, he was just a Regular Joe?

“You know… you don’t have to be sad all the time. I get it matches the whole,” Ham waved his hand vaguely in Noir’s direction “everything about you, but that doesn’t mean you gotta be sad all the time.” Porker had said when Noir retreated into himself. “I get it… not belonging is a big thing for us Spiders. But it doesn’t have to define us.” 

After that, Ham retreated into the living room with the rest of the Spider-People. 

Noir followed. 

Gwen threw a colorful cube at Noir. “You don’t know colors, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Awesome. We’re gonna teach you.”

They went through the basic colors on the strange cube with him and quizzed him. It was possibly the closest thing to companionship he had ever experienced.  
“Thank you,” Noir whispered softly to Ham. Ham smiled and took another sip of his tea. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

Noir scoped the area for any suspicious activity- criminal or interdimensional -and decided it was void of it. He began to wonder if it was just by chance that Spider-Ham had ended up here with him. 

BANG 

“Well, that doesn’t sound good.” Ham dashed in the direction of the noise, closely followed by Noir.  
They came to a halt at an alley. A giant shadow scrambled about.

Noir crept along before accidentally kicking a can. He winced,

The figure turned into the light. 

For a moment, all of them froze. 

“Peni?” Noir ventured, recognizing the SP//dr suit.

“Noir?”

“Ham?” Ham said. “What? Can’t a pig join in on the fun?”

Peni giggled. “It’s nice to see you guys again.”

Noir fought back a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Ty for reading. Comment/Kudo if you want. <33


	4. He'll Want to Keep You Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noir has flashbacks and Peter B and Gwen show up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to post this. I have school again so it'll take me a while to crank chapters out. This one is pretty long because I've been sitting on the idea of Noir being super selfless for a long time. Enjoy.

“I have to say that although it broke my heart, I was, and still am, glad I was there.”   
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

 

Sometimes the world felt like ice. With air too frigid to breathe without the Arctic piercing your lungs. The bleak weather seemed to nip at people's hearts.  
“Bundle up, dear,” Aunt May had said.  
Being a teen with a rebellious streak, he did not. May rolled her eyes and wrapped him in a scarf, “Don’t go out there without something to protect you from the weather. You can’t be catching cold this time of year.”   
Food was scarce the year of 1934. The Dust Bowl slowly reached its peak, and food dissolved in the sand. _What May is really trying to say_ Peter thought _is she can’t afford the food we need to keep all of us healthy._ He grabbed an extra pair of gloves for the kids down the block.   
Uncle Benjamin was off doing some job for the train system, and while he sent as much money as he could, they never had enough to go to sleep with their bellies full. He was cold more often than not. 

Noir never really thought of how this affected his adult life. 

He sipped an egg cream while listening to Peni and Miles tell tales of their adventures.   
Miles talked about how he defeated Osborn. Peni told everyone of VEN#m. Noir asked what a hashtag was. Ham made endless quips. Everything was going well.   
An unforgiving breeze slammed against the windows. May gave the Spider-Lings blankets before scolding Ham for his coaster use (or lack thereof). The wind howled outside, and snow accumulated on the ground. The electricity flickered. 

It was February 9th of 1934. The coldest day in New York’s history. Temperatures rested around -15 degrees Fahrenheit, and the wind made it feel like icicles were seeping underneath your skin. While the mercury dropped, so did kids. Children walked to school with frostbitten hands and noses. A girl named Jane fainted from cold and hunger on her way to Public School 89. 

It was like Hell froze over and took New York with it. Peter found dozens of men blacked out in their cars from monoxide poisoning- they were trying to warm their vehicles before going to work. The winter was bitter enough to freeze the fire hydrants and sprinkler systems. Every time Peter found someone passed out he banged on the windows till they woke up or the window shattered. He saved three people from carbon monoxide poisoning. Their windows broke the skin of his hands. He handed his hat to a homeless man shivering on the street and dropped his gloves into the hands of a mother who held her child close and shuddered against the cold. To Peter, he wasn’t doing enough. 

HIs lips were blue and his hands were crusted over with his blood by the time he got to school. He told his teachers why. They didn’t dare scold him for such selflessness.   
Behind his back, they worried about him. “That boy has too much kindness in his heart,” Ms. James whispered to her coworker. “That kindness is gonna freeze over one day. He’ll realize the harshness of the world.”

In the newspaper the next day, six deaths were reported. Next to that was an ad for winter coats- Lincoln Coats Only $45! For some people, that was a month's worth of salary.

“Earth to Noir!” Ham squealed. 

Ham’s voice silenced the memories. Ice piled up on the windows.   
He realized a moment later Porker was in his lap with his hands wrapped up in Noir’s shirt. “It took you thirty minutes to come back to us, pal. The electricity was going haywire.”  
Noir scowled. Of course he had to be the one to ruin everyone's fun. “My apologies.”

“Your apologies? Noir we were worried you were glitching.”

Worried? For him? No… “Thank you for your concern,” Noir murmured. He said some hasty goodbyes before retreating upstairs.

🕷 🕷 🕷

It’s been two days. Two days since Noir fell into the graveyard and- by some miracle -back with some of the Spider-Lings. He listened as May shooed Miles out the door. “You’ll miss supper with your parents,” she scolded when he tried to stay longer.   
A _thwip_ let Noir know the boy had left.  
He tapped at his watch and got lost in his thoughts. Dishes clattered downstairs. Someone was making dinner. 

A knock sounded off at the door. 

Noir huffed quietly. “Come in.”

“You… you doin’ alright? You gave us a real scare down there.”

_No I’m not alright_ he wanted to say. _I want to know why you tolerate me. Why you let yourselves sit in kinship with a man who has killed. A man who broke people’s car windows and let his blood drip down the streets._ A small voice reminded him it was to save people. He ignored it. _Why is it that you don’t understand that to know me is to live in constant danger?_

“I’m dandy. Just exhausted from walkin’ about all day. No big deal.”

Ham took in a deep breath. A look flashed across his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “That’s a huge load of shit and you know it.”

“Then why are you here? If you knew you were just going to get a tall tale?”

“Do you not want me here?” 

“No! I just, um, I was just…” he sighed “I’m worried. I don’t want to lose you all because of stupid stuff I don’t understand.” Noir pursed his lips. _Like how I space out or make the lights flicker when I’m upset, or can’t let anyone in too close because I’ll lose them just as quickly as I learned to love them. I no longer want to feel the ache of loss but I’m perpetually stuck between the past where I everything disappeared and the future that holds people that will vanish later._

Ham patted Noir on the back. His eyes held a sadness that was not there before. “Don’t we all, Noir. Don’t we all.” 

Noir wondered who his companion had lost. 

They sat together in silence until May called them down for dinner. 

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

Porker frowned loudly. 

Peni’s eyes went wide. “How do his frowns make a noise?”

Noir shrugged, “Cartoon logic?” 

They were playing UNO together. Try as he may, Noir did not know all the colors. He often played a color that didn’t match. The others let it slide usually. 

“Noir… how can you confuse yellow and red? They’re so different!” Peni snickered.

“That’s yellow? I thought it was purple.”

“Oh my god. Do we need to take out the Rubix cube again? I’ll do it if I have to.” Ham’s exasperated expression meant he wasn't lying, either.

May rolled her eyes. “This is why I said we should play poker.”

Ham went into a rant about how that wouldn’t be fair to him due to his cartoon logic. “My eyes turn into giant dollar signs, y’know. Not good when you’re tryna pull off a poker face.”

“I think we should just play DDR,” Peni said, already pulling one out of her SP//dr mech. _Why does she have that? Do people randomly have dance battles in her universe? How strange…_

“I don’t think that's a good idea, pipsqueak. Noir’s old bones won't be able to handle it.” Ham sat next to Noir and grabbed his hand. “Look! The man practically has arthritis.” He lifted it up for Peni to see.

Nothing was wrong with his hand, Noir noted. He didn’t say anything. He liked his Ham’s hand fit in his. Ham didn’t let go.

A little bit of the ice melted off the windows. The street lights shone brightly. 

“I wish Gwen was here. She’d definitely play DDR.”

“Well dear, it seems it's your lucky day.” Aunt May glanced pointedly outside the window. 

“No way!” Peni scanned the outside before her eyes rested on two figures. “Peter B. is here too!”

“The hobo?” Ham teased before standing up. 

Noir pushed down the disappointment at the loss of contact. 

Peni ran outside and crashed into Gwen. Noir faintly remembers the two acting as siblings to one another the last time they were here. _They deserve that happiness._ Noir thought before turning his attention to Peter B. 

“Welcome back, dip.”

“I have no idea what that means but I’m positive it’s an insult.”

“Only a little.”

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

May decided the room arrangements.   
“The girls get whichever room they want, Noir and Ham share whatever is left and Peter B. gets the couch.”

Peter grumbled, “Why do I have to get the couch. I’m, like, the coolest person here.”

“I wish I could take that seriously, dear. Enjoy the couch.”

They had decided that after tonight they would search for a way out of this mess. 

“We can’t afford to stay here again. Our universes need us.” Gwen looked particularly on edge. “As much as I like you guys, I can’t just up and leave. I’m sure you guys understand, right?”

They nodded solemnly. As much as they wish they could take a break, even for a moment, lives rested in their hands. They couldn’t dilly-dally in Mile’s universe while civilians died in theirs. 

“I don’t know nothin’ about how this could’ve happened. For all I know I was the only one meant to be affected.” Noir gestured to Peter B. for some insight. “Maybe you know how we got into this mess?”

“If I were to guess the force in which you were sent across the multiverse created a sort of quantum break that summoned all of us back together again. But it’s just a guess.”

A question mark popped up over Ham’s head. “Did anyone else not understand that? Do scientists- or very lazy writers -just put quantum in front of a word to make it seem more scientific?”

”Basically, yes.”

“So how do we fix it?” Gwen asked.

“If we make enough energy to simulate the projecting of Noir to his universe, we could probably find a way to send us all back. That or we invent interdimensional travel in less than a week.”

“Sounds hard. Where are we going to find enough energy to do either of those? I mean- the amount of energy that would take rivals technology even in my universe.” Peni’s concern clouded her face. 

“Steal it,” Noir replied. Darkness clouded his face. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

Electricity, while not advanced, did exist in the ’30s. It was expensive but available. Machines were starting to take over, and everything got cheaper as things were made less by hand and more by metal. Despite this, people still couldn’t afford anything. 

It was the very beginning of The Great Depression, and things hit hard. 

Peter looked helplessly at the children down the street. The neighborhood called it the Child-Home. Aunt May often invited them over. Their parents were never home and the eldest- a girl merely ten years of age - was often tasked with caring for them. The girl was nowhere to be seen. 

 

Peter wandered up the street and into the garden of the Child-Home. “Not to be nosy but where’s your sister?” 

A boy- Jason, five years old - replied. “She’s sick. She won’t let us see her ‘cuz she don’t want us sick, too.”

_Sick?_ Peter thought. _In the middle of summer?_

“I don’t think she’d mind if I went up there to check on her would ya?”

“Nah. She fancies you.” The boy and his siblings giggled together. Peter retreated into the house. It was a small home. Two bedrooms. There was next to nothing inside of the house. A small fire burned on the stove, boiling water in a pot above it. 

Peter knocked on the door that was covered in filth. “Sarah?”

He walked into the room. Sarah was pale, her cheeks hollowed out, and the bags under her eyes seemed to weigh a ton. She was asleep. 

Peter looked in astonishment at her. _How could she have gotten so sick? Is this something going around?_

“Pete?” A frail voice called. Sarah. 

“You okay there, kiddo? You seem mighty sick…’

“Just pneumonia. I’ll be fit as a fiddle by next week,” she coughed. 

“You need me to do anything? I can help you out while you get back on your feet.”

She smiled kindly. It was the baby fat on her cheeks that reminded him she was only ten, that she shouldn’t have to go through this.

“I couldn’t ask nothin' of you, Pete. You and Mrs. May have done so much already for me and the other kids.”

_Not enough. Never enough._

A child banged at the door. “Sissy! I’m hungry!” 

Sarah shut her eyes. “We ain’t got food no more. Ma and Pa haven’t been back in days. I dunno what to do.”

Peter pursed his lips. “You just say here and rest, Sarah. I’ll be back later, alright?”

She was already asleep again when he left. 

 

Peter squirmed under the watchful eyes of the store worker. He wandered around and acted as if he had business there. After about ten minutes, the worker lost interest and went back to her magazine. 

This was when his work began. Peter swiftly stuffed food into his coat pockets. When they were full, he resorted to stuffing it in his underpants. Less than sanitary, but better than nothing. Before finishing, he grabbed a bar of soap and waddled- rather suspiciously -up to the register. 

“This soap, please.” He said proudly, refusing to acknowledge how he seemingly gained five pounds in less than a minute.

“Two cents.” The worker didn’t even look up, engrossed in her magazine. Joan Crawford graced the cover. 

He handed the money over, grabbed the soap, and quickly waddled out. 

From some distance, the sounds of the Child-Home were heard. The sound of sing-songs and skipping rhymes. The voices rose and fell.

Peter walked stiffly into the house before he unloaded everything onto the counters. He dropped into Sarah’s room and placed a bottle of medicine next to her bed. 

He quickly cooked something for the children before fleeing.

_Sometimes,_ he thought _it is better to break laws and protections for the greater good of the people._

He didn’t feel so bad stealing to make sure the kids down the street had something easy come to them.

Sarah started to seem like a child again. If only a little. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

Ham and Noir went upstairs after they discussed tomorrows plans with their counterparts. 

The pig turned to him, “I’m a cuddler.”

“You’re a _what?!”_

“A cuddler?”

“I feel like we both have very different definitions of cuddling, pal.” An explicit scene passed through Noir’s mind. He pushed it down. 

“Probably. Come on, Sherlock. Time for bed.”

They laid down and stared at the ceiling. “Y’know… I always thought quicksand would be a bigger problem.”

“What is quicksand?”

“Goodnight, emo prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked. Leave a kudo/comment if you did! Enjoy your week!


	5. You'll Tap Until it Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noir likes to tap. Ham and Noir start to grow closer. A plan is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really only to develop the plan. We're not even close to the climax of this fic, so wait to see what I have in store. Hope you enjoy!!

“It was [his] habit to build up laughter out of inadequate materials.”  
― John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath

When he was in his Spider-Suit, Noir could feel the darkness of the world creep onto his shoulders, turning into his problem to handle.  
He swung around the city, looking for danger. As he sped past the world, street-lights grew and shrank. His mask was lightened sharply before dipping back into darkness. 

It was the first anniversary of Uncle Ben’s death. He ignored the grief, not willing to let his emotions take control. He was able to let things hide behind his ribs until he was ready to handle it. That was his advantage, really. Until then he let weird dreams filled with spiders haunt him and boffed people who deserved it. He hit and hit until his knuckles were bruised, then hit some more. He punched Nazi’s and mob members and idiots who thought they would get away with forcing themselves onto dames. 

“One more word and I’ll drop you,” he would growl in the faces of the punch-drunk bums. He dropped them in front of police stations, webbed up and bleeding. 

He learned the best way to find more people to sock.

He followed the sirens.

 

The sirens screamed constantly. They always came closer and closer to his apartment before the alarm disappeared in the city. Families slept through the sirens, but never Peter. Tires squealed on the streets. People bustled about in speakeasies. Peter could hear it all. He could envision the taps of women’s nails on their watches while they flirted with men. He swore he could feel the breath of the drunkards stumbling down 68th Avenue. The night was always alive. 

That why even at 3 a.m. he was wide awake, inspecting the ceiling. Ham slept soundly, little z’s floating above his head. A little squeak would escape the swine’s mouth occasionally. _Cute as a bug’s ear_ Noir thought.

It was when the clock hit 3:30 that he decided he was fed up with laying there.

“I’ll hit that all-nighter down the street before anyone realizes I’m gone,” Noir mumbled under his breath. 

“Or,” Ham yawned “you can take me with you.”

Noir’s eyebrows furrowed. “Thought you were asleep.”

“So did I. So where we goin’?”

“A place for some joe.”

“I have no idea who Joe is but I’m sure he’s great. Let’s go.”

Noir smirked a bit before leading Ham out the door. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

The streetlights began to dim around the time they got to the coffee-shop.

Women sat along the streets, smoking cigarettes and drinking what seemed like giggle juice. Noir reminded himself to keep an eye out for the dames, in case they got themselves in trouble. They watched as the pig and detective wandered into a coffee joint. When everything that could be seen was seen, the pair took their attention elsewhere.

“So, sweet-cheeks, what's got you up so early?” Ham wondered aloud. The menus were laid out in front of them. 

Noir collected his thoughts while his companion checked out the menu. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Any particular reason?” The pig masked his concern rather horribly. 

“The sounds of the Apple keep me up. They’re different from home, but not enough to let me get a wink or two.”

“I get that.”

Noir leaned up against the window.

“Why are there so many ways to eat bacon. Offensive. What would they do if I barged in here with some human flesh, huh?”

“You’d probably get jail time. Just a guess, though.”

At intervals, he heard heels clicking through the cafe. The ticks of the clock filled the silence.

 

Peter always found comfort in clicks and taps. 

The autumn made the world kinder. Falling leaves twisted through the air and flew with the wind. The black and white was less harsh. Murmurs of others made everything feel soft. The constant wave of noise calmed his nerves. 

Women with heels rushed down the street, shoes clicking with each step. Men’s wristwatches ticked and tocked. A girl next to him nervously tapped on her notebook. 

The people around him seemed faint-hearted. As soon as the first leaf fell from a tree, they began to feel fearful. Winter was soon. Cold. During summer, the people didn’t have to worry their children would freeze. The prospect of the cold terrified the people more than before. The heart of New York was already beginning to feel the breeze tainted with ice. Until then, though, Peter watched as children- too skinny, too thin -played in the street. 

Peter tapped harshly on his wristwatch. The sharp noise distracted him enough to keep his thoughts off their fates. 

The children's laughter floated through the street. Peter memorized the sound of happiness before he walked into a coffee shop. 

 

The waitress came over. Noir asked for black coffee. Ham ordered pancakes and squinted when she asked if he wanted bacon with them. She hurried away. 

“So… What’s your favorite weapon? A gun?” Ham asked (because that’s where they are in their relationship, apparently).  
“Bold of you to assume I always use a gun. What do you think I am? A gun cuck? I use my fists as nature intended.”

“Well, mine’s a mallet.”

Noir smiled. “I assumed.”

“Your sense of humor is archaic as hell. I like it.”

“And yours is goofy. We both have our charms, doll.”

“You think I’m charming?” Ham wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Very,” Noir deadpanned. A playful glint danced across his eyes.

The waitress dropped off their order before retreating with impressive speed.

Noir watched as the sun rose. It looked the same as when he first arrived in Mile’s universe. Full of hope.

“Hey, Porker. What are those colors?” He cocked his head towards the sunrise. 

Ham swallowed his pancakes before replying. “It’s a mixture of orange, red, and pink. It’s real pretty.”

They admired the colors together. 

Sunrises were different in his universe. Rather than colors giving way to more colors, darkness gave way to light. Evil gave way to good if only for the time the sun was up. It was like the mobs ran from the light like rats.  
_Maybe I should start bringing electric flash lights with me around the city._

“You think a lot.” 

Noir nodded. 

“What about?”

“My universe.”

Ham hummed in understanding. 

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

“Noir, you’re the source of all this. How did they transport you here?” Peter B. turned to Noir. A bit of sauce stained his shirt.

“From what I remember, they took a bit of a blood sample. After that the machine went haywire. The room started to light up like the sun and ‘fore I knew it I was being pushed through a sketchy portal.”

Peter pursed his lips. “Sounds like they used some quantum energy and a hell of a lot of electricity, mixed it with your DNA and threw you through the portal.”

“Where are we gonna find quantum energy? It hasn’t been developed for the masses yet,” Peni worried.

“If you guys need to fight through a group of baddies again I’m coming.” Miles was particularly persistent. 

“First of all, never say baddies again. Second of all, you have school and this really isn’t a priority. None of us have glitched yet,” Peter B. argued. He had taken up the position of unofficial leader. No one knew why the hobo got to lead. 

“For once I agree with Pete,” May said. “You’re education is important, dear. They can handle themselves.” 

“Please?” Miles used his puppy eyes. Gwen groaned. 

“Just let him come. It won’t hurt. Besides, I’d like to hang out with you guys a bit longer.” Peni commented. Gwen groaned louder, probably as a retaliation against the sappy comment Peni had made. 

Ham threw up his hands. “What’s the harm in the twerp comin? I don't see a problem.” 

This launched everyone into a more intense argument.

Noir focused on the harsh ticks of his wristwatch. 

 

When he lived with May, she had a hideous grandfather clock. “It was passed down generations, dear,” she would say, smiling down at him. “You’ll understand it’s value when you get older. You might even come to love it.”

It was made of dark wood. Carved into it were depictions of an old tale. May told him the story when he was younger. All he remembered from it was from some fairytale called Beauty and the Beast. A rose was carved up either side, and scenes of the princess and the beast were scattered all over.

Peter sat in front of the ugly thing, his lips fashioned into a grimace. 

The noises were annoyingly persistent. Easy to memorize. He jumps when he hears doors open and close down the hall, disrupting the constant tick and tock. 

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

He counted the time between each sound. 

It became a source of comfort. The hard ticks were something for him to focus on, something to distract himself with.

Noir remembered how quickly he grew to love that clock. It sits in his apartment back home. The wristwatch he wore had the same rose engraved on it. 

His stomach twisted. Too many memories were trying to filter through his mind. Noir reached for Ham’s hand to ward off the chaos. 

Ham looked at him in surprise before he squeezed his hand around Noir’s tightly. 

If anyone noticed the small hearts floating above Ham’s head they didn’t mention it. 

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

They decided they would sneak into Pym Technologies that night. 

“I remember seeing something about quantum energy on the news, and Hannah Pym was there. I’m guessing she has some,” Miles mentioned. 

“That’s a long way to go for a guess, Miles.” Gwen said, concerned. “If we get caught we don’t know what they’ll do. They could experiment on us like we’re animals.”

“I’m literally sitting right next to you, Gwendolyn.” 

“Sorry, Ham,” she muttered.

“She’s right, though. What if we get caught?” Peni looked up from her spider. It had crawled out of the mecha and sat in her hands. 

“Then we get out together.” 

May huffed, “That's not a plan, Peter.”

The argument got louder. Noir let the tick of his watch keep him calm.  
Ham had somehow found a way into his lap, and in the process Noir’s arms found their way around his waist. Noir pushed down the giddy feelings it gave him.

Gwen scrunched up her nose. “Even if it works and we find the quantum energy, where are we gonna get all the electricity we need?” 

Peni shrugged. “Steal it from Times Square?”

“Not enough energy. What do you think, Noir?” Peter asked. “You’re the one that got sent here. Any clue where they got all that energy?”

“They coulda easily got their hands on the cities electric system. People weren’t exactly to pay for their electric, so there was definitely excess.”

“So all we have to do is hack in to the cities electric system? Easy.” Peni smiled. Out of all the Spider-People, she was definitely the best at hacking. 

“Seems too easy,” Miles said. “It can’t be that easy. There’s no way.”

“Rule #1 of being Spider-Man, kid,” Peter scolded “don’t jinx anything.”

Miles apologized sheepishly. 

“So when are we gonna get this show on the road, folks?” Ham asked.

As the team discussed, Noir watched. They’d become so connected. They may hardly know each other, but he felt more connected to these people than anyone else across the multiverse. 

_You’re going to lose them or they’re gonna take a hike right outta your life,_ his thoughts reminded him. _Once you part ways, you ain’t never gonna see them again. What’s with you thinkin’ they care?_

Noir wished the voices would shut up. 

He tapped on his watch. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

They took the bus to Pym Tech. 

“Not everyone has organic webbing, showoff. Better for us to save it up.” Peter B. teased. 

On the way, Miles pulled out something called a _Nentindo Twitch._ “We can play Luigi Kart.”

“Get ready to be pummeled, suckers.” Peni said, cracking her fingers. 

They all bullied Ham throughout the game, throwing “shells”- a strange concept, Noir thought -at him. “I’ll have you all know that if you are in a life or death moment, I will _not_ be saving you. I hope throwing those damn shells was worth it,” he said when he got in 12th place for the third time. Noir chuckled. 

_This happiness,_ he thought guiltily _comes at a cost._

Noir didn’t want to know what he would have to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked! Leave a comment/kudos if you did. Thanks for reading!!


	6. He'll Fight an Ant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Pym Tech. Plot continues. Noir has a hard time when it comes to losing people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took forever to update. This is longer than usual. Sorry about that. Also, this is very dialogue heavy because I'm bad at plot progression. Hope you enjoy!

“There is prodigious strength in sorrow and despair.”  
― Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

When Peter was a kid, Aunt May and Uncle Ben made him a sort of idealist. He had big dreams. He wanted to be a reporter. Muckrakers Teddy Roosevelt had called them.

Peter wanted to be a part of the world that that looked downwards ready to break down the walls between the rich and poor. Break down the corruption single-handedly. 

He sat and read through The Jungle, Shame of the Cities, and How the Other Half Lives until it burned into his memory. _How will it be,_ he asked himself _to see pain so terrible and put an end to it? How does it feel to wake up at night and know it was you that created a safer world thanklessly over and over again?_

 

He did not bother to connect what he does as Spider-Man to muckraking. Refused to acknowledge that New York needed him just as much as it needed those revolutions. 

Muckrakers were revolutionary. Noir was a menace. 

“Pym Technologies is revolutionary. They’ve made so much renewable energy for the city and they’re helping to fund the PDNY,” Miles rambled, looking enthused. 

“That’s great, kid. But we’re here to do highly illegal activity, not tour their gift shop. Remember that,” Peter B. said.

When they got there, Noir tried to hold in his surprise at how big the building was. It rose above the trees around it and touched the sky. It was a dark building, suspiciously so. It looked like it held secrets. Noir felt the urge to take out his notepad. 

“If this doesn’t work out, do you guys want to blame the hobo?” Ham asked.  
Everyone nodded in agreement. Peter B. crossed his arms. “Then if this succeeds it’s because of me?”  
“Nah. If this succeeds we are thanking Miles.”  
Miles smirked. 

Noir pulled on his mask. “This place have any trigger men?” 

“SP//dr’s readings say there's at least ten on each floor. We've gotta be sneaky.”

“How are we meant to be sneaky with that huge thingamajig luggin’ behind us?”

“SP//dr is a master of stealth.”

“Can’t argue with that. Let’s fade.” 

“What does that even _mean_ ” Gwen gesture wildly.

“He means let’s do this thing,” Ham translated.

Noir gave his acquaintances- no, family - a once-over.  
Gwen was strong, independent, held herself in a way that was somehow graceful yet tough.  
Miles’ eyes flashed with the same determination that he held after his leap of faith.  
Peni looked over SP//dr one last time before battle, she looked just as courageous and bold as when they first met.  
Peter B. was worse for wear, but at least he’d left the sweatpants at May’s.  
Noir didn’t look at Ham. He did not think he could take letting him go, so he didn’t. Noir let Ham get too close, and how he was going to pay the price. 

_I knew this was going to happen. Now I deal with the consequences._

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

Uncle Benjamin's death was difficult. Hard to believe, really. Not in the same way his parent’s death was, he was too young to truly comprehend the loss of Mama’s kisses and Papa’s pats on the back. When Peter lost his uncle, though… a part of his soul left with him.

Uncle Benjamin was a great man, greater than anyone around him. He was a fighter pilot in the Great War. “I don’t take pride in it. I will never feel proud for a war that turned the world grey.” 

His uncle kept his old black aviator uniform and revolver buried under a pile of clothes in his closet. Before he became Spider-Man, Peter would wear the uniform gleefully. Laughing as he ran around the kitchen, Ben chasing after him. May always watched from the sidelines. “He’s still got some of that childlike innocence, Ben. Maybe we aren’t doin’ so bad after all.” 

Ben’s kindness flowed over everyone fortunate enough to know him. He had a soft spot for humankind. “No matter how violent, disgusting, or hopeless things may seem, Peter, know the world is better than that. Look for the helpers in the rubble instead of the Sopwith Camels in the sky.” Ben was often one of the helpers in the rubble. He organized strokes against sweatshops, held rallies in Hoovervilles, invited hungry mothers and their children to indulge in what little the Parkers could offer. 

Uncle Benjamin was an extraordinary man. That’s why Peter stood over his grave, tears threatening to spill over. 

_He was too compassionate_ people would whisper over their coffee. _That Benjamin Parker was destined to die. Being kind-hearted in this world brings only ruin._

Peter hated the sympathetic looks he got during the funeral. They pitied him. Why? It was not him that was dead. Not him that was cooled for his kindness. Peter would be able to move on while Ben remained in the ground, a man murdered for too much love in his heart. 

The priest whispered the final prayer. 

With the last syllable of the prayer, Peter promised he would destroy the men that did this. 

The goon that killed his uncle would pay.

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

Noir pulled on a black aviators uniform before he put a revolver- Benjamin was carved into the stick- into his belt. 

They walked around the perimeter carefully and found where it was safe to enter. Each of them files behind one another. They tread lightly, concentrated on mapping out perimeters, focused on what was around them.  
Noir tapped a rhythm on the back of his hand.  
The night slowly came to a chill, and the lights of the building began to lose their glow. 

“Over here,” Peni said softly. 

The group crowded around a small vent that lead into the building. 

“You’re sure this is the only way in?” Miles asked, staring at the tiny vent. 

Gwen shrugged. “Well, it’s not like we can walk through the doors.” 

They all glanced at each other.  
Now, Noir wasn’t one to judge. He’d done some questionable things, too. But he had never had the nerve to strut into a building he was about to swipe valuables from. 

“Can’t hurt to try,” Ham noted. “Walk in like we own the place. Maybe nobody will notice.” 

“This is bananas, but let’s take a shot at it.” 

🕷 🕷 🕷 

 

Everybody noticed.

“Is it too late to bust out of here?” Noir punched someone in the face. They went down. He turned onto the next security guard. 

“Maybe just a little bit,” Miles swung down from the ceiling and kicked someone in the face. 

“I suggest finding that molecule thingy before backup comes!” Gwen yelled over the commotion. She smacked someone before she kicked someone else’s shins. 

“Follow me!” SP//dr made room for the Spider-Lings to follow it up the stairs. “I did a few scans and the lab should be on the top floor!” 

“The top floor? Why does every mission like this force me to get better at cardio?” Ham complained as they ascended the stairs. 

They pushed up and webbed anyone who dared to follow. 

“This is quite the gasser.” 

“Save your old man talk for later, Noir.” 

“Be nice to the elderly, Peter,” Gwen grunted while she elbowed a guard off the rail. 

Noir felt a strange sort of pride watching his younger counterparts as they brutally pummeled the guards. 

“The top floor is locked. I’m gonna have to hijack it. Step back,” Peni commanded. She went straight to work and did things Noir couldn’t understand. He swung his hand into the face of a guard holding a gun. Shots ricocheted throughout the metal staircase. _Of course, they have gats. Just our luck._ Noir thought before he grabbed his own revolver for return fire. 

Ham smacked random men with a mallet- _where did they come from?_ \- and hit the gunmen with it. Miles took on five of the goons at once. Noir could not help the swell of pride that followed when Miles took all of them down. 

_The kid has come far._

Another gunshot went off. Noir followed the line of sight of the shooter before he realized it was aimed at Ham. He pushed a poor joe into the line of fire. The man cried out. 

A sick side of Noir was thankful it was him and not Ham. It was a sinful thought. He whispered an apology before he swung his fist at another poor bloke. 

“I got the door! Come on!” 

They rushed forward without any more coaxing. The goons unfortunately followed. Noir webbed a few before he got beyond the door. He slammed it shut. “We won’t be able to hold them off for long. Where’s the loot?” 

“The readings say it’s just down the hall. But there’s some sort of anomaly messing with the data.” 

“I say we smack this so-called anomaly with a mallet,” Ham said. 

“Guys? Should we be worried about that?” Miles asked, pointing to the door. A few of the goons had managed to get through and rushed towards them. 

“I got this.” Ham turned to the hatchetmen and pulled a whistle out of thin air. “STOP!” He shouted while he held up a sign. Surprisingly, they did. 

_At least they’re polite._ Noir thought. 

Ducks began to cross the hall along a small crosswalk that had appeared. 

Gwen ogled. “I… I know this is cartoon logic… but why are they falling for it?” 

Peter B. shrugged. “Dunno. We should probably get going before they snap out of it, though.” 

“I second that,” Miles agreed.

They followed Peni into the lab, Ham hurried after them when his trick no longer worked. Noir slowed down, grabbed Ham, and then dived into the room as the goons began to shoot. 

“As great as this is, can you get off me?” 

Noir blushed and pushed himself off Ham. “My apologies.” 

 

“Wow. The readings in here are crazy.” Peni states at the readings in awe while everyone searched the room. 

Peter B. screeched before falling to the floor. 

“What was that?” Gwen raised her fists slowly. 

“Me. You really chose a bad time to break in. It’s date night.” A man dressed in an ant costume materialized in the middle of the room. 

“Listen, pal. We wanna be here even less than you do. Maybe if you help us out we could give you a giant sugar cube or something.” Ham tried to persuade the man in the suit. 

“Not happening, piggy.” 

“Low blow.”

The man-ant ran at them before he disappeared. 

Gwen fell, before getting thrown across the room. 

Miles gaped at the scene. “ I didn’t know ants could be heroes.”  
“We’ve been bitten by radioactive spiders. The world is full of surprises.” Gwen commented dryly. 

Peni shouted in annoyance. “He’s pulling wires in SP//dr.” 

They didn’t know what to do, so Noir did the only thing they could do. Be honest.

“We just want to get back to our universes, pal. We ain’t here for no trouble. It sounds nuts but we figured if we used some of that uh…” 

“Quantum Energy,” Peter provided. 

“Yes, whatever that is. We assumed we could use that to get back home. I’m sure you’ve got a project goin’ on ‘round here where you’re tryin’ to get to different universes. How’s about you let us try it out?” 

The Man-Ant materialized. “Why would I do that?”

“How else are you meant to test it out?” 

The Man-Ant seemed to mull over the option for a moment. Everyone waited anxiously. 

“No.” 

“No?”

“That’s what I said, smartass. We don’t have any of that. Even if we did why would I trust you?” 

“Because we are also people dressed up as insects?” Miles ventured. 

“We’re arachnids, Miles. Do your research.” Ham teased.  
Miles shot him a playful look before he nervously turned back to the man. “Listen, Mr. Pym-”

“Call me Hank.” 

“Uh… okay. Hank… we need to send them back. They have their own worlds to defend. Just like how we have vigilantes here, their universes need theirs.” 

“I can give you one”  
“One?”  
“One molecule. Then you leave. Yes?”  
“Why?”  
“I’d hate to deprive other worlds a safety web. Besides,” Hank said, “ants are scared of spiders.” 

They all nodded eagerly. 

Gwen stuck out her hand. Hank placed a small vial into her hand. “Be safe. All of you. There should be enough energy to activate this at the Con Edison company. They’re overrun by Demons.” 

The man disappeared. 

“Well that’s not ominous at all,” Peter commented. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

“I’d like a chicken burger with no lettuce, mayonnaise, mustard, tomato, ketchup, or onion on it,” Peter B. asked the waitress. 

She rolled her eyes. “Do you not want the chicken, either?” 

His eyes filled with bewilderment. “It’s a chicken burger. Of course I want the chicken. I’m no simpleton.” 

Noir fought the urge to smile. 

Gwen quietly hit Peter before she ordered the same. “Chicken burger. Plain.” 

The waitress went around the table before she stopped at Noir. “And what would you like?” 

Noir stared at her. 

“And what would you like?” A woman asked kindly. He was with May and Ben for a Christmas dinner. It was one of the few times they were together. Peter was smiled across the table. “Just a bowl of tomato soup, please.” She nodded and walked off. 

May pushed a package across the table. “Ben and I got this for you, dear. We couldn’t wait for you to see it, so we decided to give it to you tonight.” She reached over to her husband and held his hand. 

Peter frowned. “You didn’t have to. I know money is tight right now and-”

“Peter. We know we didn’t have to. Is it so hard to believe we wanted to?” Uncle Benjamin scolded him. Peter looked down at the box in his lap. He moved his hands to open it gently, peeling back the paper delicately. Inside was a notepad with his name engraved on it.  
“Murder! This must’ve cost at least 7 checks. I can’t take this. It’s too much-”

May gave him a stern look. “You’re taking it, dear. We want you to have something for your new job.”

Peter wipes away a tear quickly before getting up to hug both of them. “Thank you,” he whispered into their necks. “You’re both swell.”

Ben smiled at him, his eyes crinkled at the edges. “Anything for you, Peter.”  
He said it so genuinely like it was the only truth in this world. Like it was the secret to the world. Peter couldn’t help but grin. 

He picked up a box and handed it to them. “I got you both something as well. I hope it suits your fancy.” 

The pair opened it together and gaped at the gift. It was a framed photo of all three of them. Peter remembered how hard it was to find someone to paint it. Artists were hard to come by these days. Luckily, Sarah from the Child-House loved to paint. He paid her seven dollars for the painting despite her insistence that she would do it for free. 

“No,” he said. “You deserve money for this. Let me give it to you.” 

Sarah nodded happily. “Thank you.”

Peter vaguely remembered seeing her purchasing toys for her siblings with the money. 

 

“Dear… this is absolutely beautiful.” Uncle Benjamin and Aunt May gawked at the photo. 

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. They ate until they were full- a rare occurrence. They laughed over dinner and thanked whatever higher powers existed for the small family they had. Their bellies were filled with love and satisfaction. Their hearts overflowed.

On their way home, Ben wandered off. “I have to take care of somethin’. I’ll be back in a while. Don’t wait up.”

Peter found his body mutilated in an alleyway hours later. 

Lead filled his stomach, and his heart was drained. 

“Noir! Come on, bud. Come back to us.” Someone shook him. 

The waitress was gone. 

“You did that thing again. Where you zone out and get all upset,” Peni said quietly, as if any loud noise could set him off. 

“That was just a Brodie. I apologize.” 

They all seemed to deem his excuse as unsatisfactory. Noir tapped gently on the table. 

Ham grabbed his other hand under the table and squeezed. “Listen, we know you have a tough guy thing goin’ on, but you don’t have to keep that up with us.” 

Noir scoffed. “What tough guy thing? I’m doin’ swell. Nothin’s wrong.”

“I’m not even going to pretend to believe that,” Gwen said. Miles agreed with her. 

Ham sighed. “Just remember we have each other’s backs. Including yours.” 

Noir nodded. His tapping slowed down. 

The waitress dropped off the food. Noir got tomato soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked. Let me know if you see any problems/typos. Comment/Kudos if you'd like. See you guys later. OH, btw.... I have finals the next two weeks so I might not be able to post once a week. Hopefully I will though. Have a good day/night!!


	7. They'll Both Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst and fluff at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic depiction of death and heavily talks about guilt. Fluff at the end. Sorry the chapter is short. Finals are hell and I just needed a small vent chapter. Hope ya'll enjoy.

So yes, you were born to die. But in between, you are meant to live.- A Land of Permanent Goodbyes, Atia Abawi

 

With a look around the diner one couldn’t tell it was formerly a speakeasy. Noir knew, though. The way the floorboards squeaked under the feet of the elderly woman in the booth next door, how the kitchen was masterfully hidden from the direct sight of the window. History echoed throughout the room. 

He took a hesitant sip of his tomato soup. 

Ham spoke loudly, something about a horse in a hospital. Noir tuned it out, focused on the way his wristwatch ticked impatiently. It was waiting for something. Noir didn’t know what.

“What do you think, Noir? Would the hippo or the horse win?” Everyone turned their attention to him. 

“I have no clue, but I do know it’d be one heck of a shindig.” 

They seemed to accept his answer and went back to talking. Noir let his eyes wander to the streamings that hung from the ceiling. The bright metallic strands sharply contrasted with the bland ceiling. He liked it. He filed the nameless colors away into his memory.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Noir looked to his watch. It gleamed under his gaze like it knew something he didn’t. Noir ignored the uneasy feeling that began to fill his stomach.

Jazz music played above. Noir felt a pang of homesickness. 

“So is anyone going to mention the fact that a random dude told us we were going into a place infested with demons or is that just me?” Miles asked, bewildered. 

It was weird being reminded Miles had only been Spider-Man for a few months. He hadn’t faced all the dangers that lurked in the sewers. Evil has only shown a small side of itself to the teen, and the pressure had barely begun to press itself down onto him. Noir wished he could stay to stop it all. To let the kid have his childhood.   
But Miles was capable. He would learn over time. 

“In my universe, when I took Kingpin down, another group started to rise up. There was no competition, so they filled in the hole Fisk left.” Peter B. licked sauce off his fingers. “They’re controlled by Mister Negative in my universe. I’m assuming the same for yours.” 

“They’re not actual demons, then?”   
“Nope. Just jerks,” Gwen said.

Miles breathed out a sigh of relief. 

In Noir’s universe, Mister Negative was merely a henchman. He was the brains behind the operation of Hammerhead, who spent so much time running at things head first Noir suspected his brain took a hike at least ten years ago. Negative managed to crawl to the top of the crime ring, defeating Hammerhead with his own idiocy. Noir barely managed to win against the villain, but when he did, Noir could almost swear a color or two seeped into the world before disappearing yet again. 

In a nutshell, Mister Negative was a ferocious foe. Noir wanted nothing more than to guard the others against him. He reminded himself that they were just as capable as he, if not more so. 

Except for Peter B., he has no idea how the chump had survived so long. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

The sun rose over the skyline while they swung back to Aunt May’s. As enthused as they were to get back to their respective universes, they weren’t going to fight the Demons in the middle of the day. 

A billboard stood proudly, with the words ‘What motivates you?!’ printed across it in bold letters. Noir‘s first thought was fear. Fear of loss, fear of being forgotten, fear of letting people down, fear fear fear fear. He was almost disgusted by how it fit like a puzzle piece into everything he did.   
_Maybe I should change that._

“We don’t conspiguous, do we?” Ham asked as he swung into the quaint neighborhood May lived in.

Gwen groaned. “If I hear one more pun I’m gonna smack you, Ham.” 

“It’s snout my fault you can’t take a joke.”

Noir rolled his eyes. 

His eyelids were dangerously droopy. He’d gone over twenty-four hours without sleep, and the effects began to take their hold. He hadn’t gotten a wink since Ham had arrived, and things began to seem a bit loopy. He barely registered it when he walked into Aunt May’s house. He placed his hat gently on the table and sat on the couch. 

 

_Tick Tock. Tick Tock._

Ham shook him gently and Noir opened his eyes. The shorter of the two sighed in relief. “You passed out as soon as you walked in. Let’s get you to bed, detective.”

Noir nodded, silently ascending the stairs. He couldn’t help but feel thankful towards Ham. The past few days he had made himself a rock for Noir to lean on. Noir only hoped he could do the same for Ham one day. 

_What am I thinking? I won't see him ever again after this damned mission._

_Tick_

“I get that you wanna lock that stuff up in your chest until you die but have you considered that isn’t the best way to deal with things?”

_Tock_

“I have not considered that.”

Ham sighed and plopped himself onto the bed. “I’m tired as hell. You sleeping tonight?”

“Yeah, lemme just get these duds off.”

Noir began to strip off his suit. He was oblivious to the way it made Ham blush like a maniac. 

Noir turned off the light and climbed into the bed. “Have a good rest.” 

“You too, hunka hunk.” 

“Hunka what?”

“Nothing.”

🕷 🕷 🕷

Ben’s blood coated his hands. He didn’t process the way he screamed loud enough to wake the neighborhood. Even if he could he doubted he would care. The sirens played like a song in his ears. 

The cathedral down the street played a melancholy tune. A song of sadness for a time of loss. 

His uncle’s breaths were growing slower. His heart beat like it was taunting Peter’s loss. 

_How could I live without you?_

Ben took in a deep breath. Peter startled. “Uncle Benjamin? It’s me- it’s Peter. Please, ple-“

Ben’s hand reached up to the boy. A smile played on his lips like even in his last moments he wanted to spread some sort of joy. 

Ben cupped Peter’s cheek. "Remember what I taught you, Peter. If there is too much power, then it is the responsibility of the people to take it away. Take it away from them. Let them know the people are always more powerful than these monsters.”

Peter nodded, desperately grasping Ben’s hand. “Stay with me, Ben. We can take them down together. C’mon!”

Ben’s hand was limp. His heartbeat was nonexistent. 

“C’mon! Stay! Please stay I can’t- I can't lose you too.” 

All signs of life left. 

Peter could feel a small piece of his soul break. 

The police pushed Peter away gently. They told him to go home, to find his aunt. The voice was familiar. He didn’t register who it was. 

The blood on his hands cracked. The crimson red transforming into an ugly brown. It flaked off his hands as he stumbled home. 

_He’s gone. He’s gone. How am I gonna tell May? How-_ He couldn’t finish the thought. 

A drunkard limped down the street. The street lamps seemed duller than before. The world darker. 

 

The cathedral leaned too far to the right as if bent over in anguish. Hail Mary floated through the windows and into Peter’s ears. Prayers transformed into humming when he hobbled up the steps of his home. May’s happiness glowed in the windows. Candles lit in honor of the night. 

Peter felt like he was about to blow them out. 

 

He opened the flimsy door and into the husk of a home. _Home was always the both of you but now everything rests on your shoulders, May._

“Did you find Ben, dear?” May asked worriedly from the kitchen. Peter didn't have the heart to tell her. Didn’t have the soul left to push through watching his aunt fall to her knees in grief. _I found him dead in an alley,_ he thought bitterly. 

He looked vacantly at the wall. 

The ugly clock ticked. Seconds passed before Aunt May’s worried strides found their way to Peter. Peter who was covered in the blood of his uncle. Peter who was so filled with grief and rage he wasn’t sure he was classified as human anymore. He did not feel human. He felt like an immortal being, outliving all of the people he cares for. Mama, Papa, Ben. May is next May is next May is next. 

Aunt May reached out and shook him. “Noir! Noir!” She screamed. It wasn’t her voice, though. Whose was it? “Noir!”  
More shaking.   
Who is it? Who is it? Who’s next? 

He opened his eyes to Ham. He shook Noir profusely, fear in his eyes. 

“Listen, I’m as much of a fan of nightmares as the next guy, but when you start kicking I think it’s time to intervene. What were you even dreaming about, big guy?”

Noir refused to admit what the dream really was, and tried quickly to think of a lie. Unfortunately, this was not his strong suit. 

“I was thinking about…” he thought for a moment. “Quickies.”

Ham winced. “Now… we don’t have time to unpack _all_ of that… but I _really, really_ don’t think you know what that means.”

“Yes, I do. Don’t be bananas.”

Ham squinted. “Then tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me what a quickie is.”

“It’s… an egg pie.”

“That’s the same joke twice.” 

Noir threw up his hands in exasperation. “Don’t know what to tell ya, doll.” 

Ham grumbled something about stupid detectives and adorable nicknames before flopping down on the bed. His ears were turned inside out. Noir gently fixed them.

They both disregarded the way hearts floated above Ham’s head. 

It didn’t take Ham long to burrow a hole somewhere in his heart. Noir worried about how attached he was to the swine already; just being in his presence, a companionship that grew stronger as the clocks noises were drowned out by happiness. He didn’t want to admit he was petrified of what followed. 

“Is it weird?” Noir murmured, glancing at the soft rise and fall of Ham’s chest. “That I wish for redemption from things that aren’t my fault?”

Ham turned gently. He seemed hesitant. 

“No… We all feel guilt for things we think we could’ve stopped. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that the weight of the world can’t be held only by one pig- or person. Other people should be held responsible for what they’ve done. And you? You’ve done good, Noir.” He placed his hand gently on Noir’s. 

Noir thought about what the other had said, mulling it over. “Then why does it feel like Death has got it out for everyone I love?”  
He said it under his breath. 

Noir gently wrapped his arms around Ham. He didn’t seem to mind. Desperation fixed itself into their limbs. 

Ham shut his eyes. His voice was choked. “What’s your favorite season?” It was out of the blue- totally random. 

Noir frowned. He thought for a moment before he answered, “New Year’s. Everything starting over again makes the world feel fresh.”

Ham smiled. “National Pig Day is mine.” 

“That’s dingy. I like it.”

If Noir noticed how Ham changed the subject to brighten his mood, well, he didn’t mention it. 

When they woke up cradled together, they merely joked and made their way downstairs. 

There was work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comment/kudos if you did, send hate mail if you didn't. You can hate me on my tumblr https://hamnior.tumblr.com/ cool thx.


	8. The Detective Will Meet Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noir dies, and his past stops haunting him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This talks a lot about death and self-sacrifice. Be warned. Enjoy.

“Let us learn to show our friendship for a man when he is alive and not after he is dead.”  
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 

 

The Demons hideout was not inconspicuous. It was as if they had wanted the Spider-Lings to find their base. Finding it was less than a challenge, and getting in felt like child's-play. 

Fighting them was a different story. They were not skilled so much as advantaged. There were hundreds of Demons in comparison to the mere six that fought them. It seemed like no amount of right hooks could save them. Noir believed in the power of beating up bozos, though. 

He broke someone's arm. Felt as a demon’s hand crunched under the heel of his foot.

He was so caught up in fighting. So eager to punch out his feelings. A stray bullet was headed for Ham. Instinct took over. The bullet burned its way to his heart. 

_“Noir!”_

He felt himself fall.

Noir was never afraid of heights. That’s why, when he felt like he was falling from the Empire State Building, he was able to stay calm. His stomach twisted into knots. He did not want to die. 

He landed in front of a door. It strangely had the same design as his watch.  
It even ticked if he listened close enough.  
He felt a sudden urge to knock on it. It inched open 

A light flickered above. 

Noir watched as a spider crawled across the table. _Just you and me, pal._ he thought while he watched it scurry. It was nice to have a friend in this lonely room.  
The spider scuttled off.

He had a vague idea of where he was. He’s never been here, but he could feel the coldness of death as it crawled up his fingers. He watched as the tips of his fingers began to freeze. Everything was a bit of a blur. His life did not flash before his eyes as people said it would. It felt more like water slowly rising over your head. Relaxing in a strange way, but deadly. It did not feel so much like suffocation as it did a release of worldly worries.

May’s voice traveled in and out of the room. Nothing she said made sense. Bits and pieces of his childhood flashed. 

Staring out the window as blue leaked from his mother’s eye. 

Sarah and her siblings over for Christmas. 

Peter hugging Ben and May. 

His teachers patting his head for a job well done. 

A knee to the balls of a Nazi. 

It wasn’t a bad life, but then he remembered. 

His parents funeral, the way they looked much too serene. 

Ben’s body, mauled and destroyed. 

May’s tears at night. 

The people he couldn’t save. 

It wasn’t a good life either. 

 

May- or someone that looked like her -frowned down at him. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

“No.” He agreed. 

“You love him that much?”

A nod. 

“How does it feel?” 

“I’m all alone, May. Always have been. It hurts.”

She reached to pat his cheek but thought better of it. A grim smile graced her face.

“Then what am I? What are we?” She waved her hand to the air, images of everyone he cares for floated in the air. Miles, Peter B., Gwen, Peni, Ben, Sarah, Ham. “How are you alone if you have people all around you who want you happy. You may have lost people, but we all have, dear. You kept letting it hold you back.”

“I didn’t want to lose more people.”

“People will die no matter how hard you try, Peter. That’s life.” A tear streaked down her cheek. “I wish you didn’t have to learn it here of all places.”

Noir nodded solemnly. It felt strange mourning a life he so willingly sacrificed. “I do as well.”

She shut her eyes. “They all love you.”

He hesitated. “And I, them.”

The door creaked. May vanished. A dark figure sauntered in. Noir had never met this person but he felt he knew them well. Death. 

The Reaper regarded him sadly. “I have watched you, you know. You’re a rare sort of thing. Little care for yourself but when it comes to others...” They took in a breath.

“You’ve saved thousands. I have always abhorred ending the lives of the ones you love. It seems this time, though, I must mourn for the world and its loss of such a soul.”

_When they finally got to the Demon’s base, they were suited up and ready to fight. They all had an uneasy feeling. Their Spider-Senses were acting up. They ignored it and went in._  
_Left hook, right hook. A tap to the snoot that made a man blackout. Noir would never admit it but fighting made things feel better.  
A Demon pushed himself up and ran at Noir. He arched himself to prepare for impact and fell to the ground. The Demon grabbed his gun and held it to Noir’s head. _

_“Any last words, scum?”_

_“Yes, I have an inquiry.”_

_“What would that be?”_

_“What’s a quickie?”_

_The idiot was taken aback, and Noir used the shock as leverage. He quickly took the gun and shot the man in the abdomen._

_“That will hurt for a while.”_

__

“Don’t pity me. It’s better than his losing him. I don’t regret-“ he choked up. “I don’t regret it.”

_Noir was foolish. He had assumed the goon would stay down. The Demon had other plans. Noir hooked his foot around a henchman’s arm and sent him crashing into a wall. The impact made so much noise it almost completely masked the sound of a gunshot._

_Noir was not unfamiliar with gunshots, but this particular bunch seemed set on hand to hand combat._

_His Spider-Sense tingled. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Time slowed. It was almost humorous the way it seemed like Death was set on stealing another one of his loves. Noir could stop it, though. He could break the pattern. All he had to do was jump._

_The bullet whizzed past everyone, headed for a fallen Ham. Noir leaped to guard him._

_He felt the bullet’s impact before he felt the cool ground. The screams around him drowned out._

_He was falling.  
_

The Reaper smiled sorrowfully. “Of course you don’t.” 

Noir twiddled his fingers. The door dinged seven times. “Can I bother you with a question?”

“Anything.”

“Is... will he be happy?” He hoped Ham would be happy. He prayed.

The Reaper bit his lip, pale and chapped. They looked like a manifestation of all that they reap. It was terrifying. 

“I cannot tell you of the future. I am a being of the future. IN that respect, I’m sure you understand. You seem to live in the past almost as much as I.”

Noir felt himself break apart piece by piece. His being shook from his very core. A fire lit itself in his core. Voices began to scream into his ears. He couldn't understand what they were saying. It was all nonsense. Every molecule of his body shook like they were trying to break apart. 

_Is this hell?_

Death smiled. It made Noir shiver. 

“It seems it is not yet your time. I hope you find a way to make yourself happy. The universe knows every version of you deserves it.”

A sharp, quick tremor made itself known over his heart. Prickly sensation invaded his body and made him shake with fear. The ice covering his fingers began to melt away. The water dripped onto his slacks and into the ground. The water turned as dark as blood before being absorbed into the ground. 

“I will see you again, Peter Parker. I pray not for a long while.”

Miles hit his hands onto Noir’s chest another time, venom strikes acting as a defibrillator. His chest popped up before he began to gasp. 

Everyone was so frantic. Noir was tired. 

“Don’t go to sleep! Do not sleep!” Everyone bawled into his ears. He was so tired, who couldn't he sleep? Just for a moment. Miles hit his chest again. Why did he keep doing that? The kid needed a stern talking to about manners. One does not interrupt an elderly person’s sleep. 

Something told Noir he should pray. He was too exhausted to lift his hands, so he whispered a Hail Mary under his breath instead. The clouds that invaded his mind slowly began to dissipate. Behind them was a light ten times brighter than the sun, but it did not burn Noir’s eyes.  
He ogled at it for what felt like an eternity. 

He could hear someone crying. Porker. Ham was crying. 

Noir needed to comfort him. His throat felt broken, but he pushed through. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“You’re up.” Ham breathed.

Without thinking, Noir pulled the pig into a hug. The area around his heart hurt, but Ham’s tears were more of a concern to Noir. He held Ham close. “I’m so sorry, Ham. I’m so sorry.”

Instead of answering, Ham simply held onto Noir tighter and hid his face in Noir’s neck. He felt the small tremors- _sobs_ -wrack themselves through Ham. They were in May’s house. How did they get to May’s house?

“You could’ve died, Noir.”

“I know. My apologies.” He briefly thought that no, he would not have died. His healing would have kicked in too quickly. The memory of the Reaper’s gaze kept his mouth sealed.

“Your apologies? No! This is your _life_ we are talking about.”

He pulled back, eyes red and puffy. Everything that once made Noir so distant shattered. Ham grasped at Noirs coat. Noir cupped Ham’s cheek. 

_Maybe the reason my universe is so lost and without color is because we hold ourselves back. We are too scared to hope, to love._ Noir thought.

He wanted to break that pattern. To love as no one had dared before and to hope beyond belief. He wanted to be happy. He felt Ham squeeze his hand. The tender touch felt like love. His hand was warm.

_It was February 9th, 1934. The coldest day New York had ever seen, but that didn’t matter because Ham’s warm hand kept the ice at bay._

“I love you.” It was a simple statement, but it held more emotion than Noir had ever spoken with before. “I love every single one of you.”

 

_It was 1930. He stole for Sarah and her siblings. He waited for the store worker to look away. The watchful eye of a suspicious storeworker turned into the warm gaze of his friends._

Porker’s eyes twinkled. Noir felt a tug at his heart.

_The darkness of the world rested on his shoulders. The sirens rung in his ears and announced the sins of the city that he must cleanse. That need to save people was pushed down by the way Ham perfectly fit into the space between his shoulder and neck._

They both fought off questions they did not have answers to. “You think too much,” Noir scolded gently.  
Ham bit his lip before he grinned. “Have to make up for your lack of thinking somehow.”

_The harsh ticks that invaded Noir’s head were warded off with a gentle squeeze of Ham’s hand._

“We live in different universes.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

_Uncle Ben was dead, but May was not. That was something to be happy about. He still had May. Still had Ham, Peter B., Gwen, Miles, and Peni._

Inside his heart played a new feeling. One that hadn’t dared to show its face in his universe. It was like joy, but it felt like it grasped at loose threads of thoughts to keep itself together. Hopeful. He felt hopeful.

Before this moment, Noir had not considered himself an optimist. At best he was a pessimist. If pressed, he would shout the word hope as if it were a profanity. Wrapped in Ham’s arms, though, he was hopeful. Amidst the chaos that was the multiverse and a broken sense of self, Noir had found people who liked him- loved him, even. For once, the flashbacks did not haunt him and his mind rung from the silence. 

Night had drawn in across the sky. The city rung in his ears. Sirens played their song and tempted him. He did not fall for the call. He remained in the embrace with Ham. 

Noir wondered how long he could stare at Ham before he was interrupted. 

“Thank you,” Noir whispered, voice cracking.

“No problem, punk.”

Someone shouted. The lights went out.

“Not to avoid heavy emotional turmoil, but I think we should get downstairs.” Ham gently kissed Noir’s cheek before he grabbed the sides of his face roughly. “And by the way, if you ever pull a stupid stunt like that again I will bring you back to life just to murder you again.”

“Doesn’t that beat all?”

“I have no idea what that means and you know it.”

“Whatever you say, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Kudos/comment if you did. This chapter was basically just me venting and I apologize in advance if it seems rushed. See y'all later.


	9. He Will Love and Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finale....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took me forever, but I usually wait for the characters to boil over an they just weren't ready to come out until this week. Thank you for your patience. I hope y'all enjoy. Happy Valentines Day.

“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.”  
― Frank Herbert

Aunt May sat alone at the kitchen table far into the night. "Hopefully next time I see you all it will be under better circumstances," she said. They waited for a warm glow that meant some higher being heard May’s call. There was no glow. She sighed. 

"All of you promise me you’ll stay out of life or death situations as much as possible," May asked of them.  
The Spider-Lings smirked as a reply. 

Noir placed his hat and a letter on the table. “We will try our damndest, right everyone?”  
Peni grinned. “We’ve got skills for days, we’ll be just fine.”

Noir couldn’t get everything that could go wrong out of his mind. Not that he thought it would; no, nothing like that. He was just cautious. Worried he would never see his newfound family again.  
Aside from missing them, he would mourn them again. He did not enjoy the feeling of mourning.  
He would miss them. That was it. And it wasn't having people to help fight, either, because Noir always found a way to win. He would miss them and their company. The idea of having a constant friendship was tempting. It was something, all right, to see the way they all got along despite their different pasts.

The thing that Noir would miss most, he thought, was Ham. He was always talking. He was charming at the worst of times and consistently was captivating. _How that fellow can talk_ he thought. 

Noir used to have a dream about a family. This dream to have a family lived far away from the sketchy alleyways of New York; but with his fellow spiders, he felt like he had one. The gentle dreams waited for him as he fought to keep his New York a better place. To his grievous disappointment, they did not come true. 

Noir was a man with a great sin on his soul. He hated the world’s atrocities. His dream made him happy. 

"I think I speak for all of us when I thank you for your hospitality," Noir said. 

“Who am I to deny my family?” She put her hand out. He looked at it dumbly for a moment before he got the idea that she wanted to shake him by the hand. She pulled him into a hug instead.

Noir sat ill at ease on one of the kitchen chairs as he listened to the conversation. The group was arguing over where to set off the atoms. But Ham sat quietly in Noir’s lap, nuzzled into his neck.

"Maybe we’ll find a secret portal to each other's dimensions," dreamed Ham, "and we can see each other when we want." 

Noir’s heart jumped. “Let's hope so," he whispered. 

They let their quiet hope consume them. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

It was dark now, and as they hid under a little bridge. Noir put his arm around Ham’s shoulder and hoped for the best. Suddenly Noir no longer felt like he was black and white, he felt blue. While his life consistently dealt with skepticism and behind the 8-ball men that needed a punch, he now felt something else. Noir tried to place the feeling: love.

“This idea is bats.”

“It’s all we’ve got.” Peter B. replied. 

“He’s got a good point,” Miles shrugged. “I don’t know any other way unless you guys want to just stay.” There was a hint of hopefulness in his reply, but they all knew it was not possible. 

“We’ll see each other again,” Peni promised. 

They swung past a barrier of dark trees, dark alleys, and bright neon signs proclaiming ‘Open 24 hrs!’ with too much enthusiasm. Noir looked into the dark cornices and blinding signs and attempted to memorize Mile’s New York one last time. Its beauty and kindness contrasted immensely with the wan, scornful city he knew so well. Despite this, it felt a bit like home to him.

They landed on top of the warehouse Noir had the misfortune of almost dying in. A familiar sense of dread consumed all of them. They needed to say their goodbyes now. 

Noir made his way to say goodbye but a faint doubt had occurred to him. If they say goodbye it is as if they will never see each other again. He did not want to end this on a negative note, not with them. Instead, he nodded to them. “I expect to see you all again soon. Stay out of trouble.” 

Noir adjusted himself a little, his hand reached for Ham’s. His hand took hold of Ham’s and he said something low in his ear. 

Miles grinned at them. “Yeah! We’ll see each other later, won't we, Gwen?” 

Gwen rubbed her arm awkwardly. “Yeah, hopefully. I actually have to admit something.”

“If you’re admitting to eating my sandwich, no you are not forgiven,” Peter said. 

“I did not eat your sandwich, get over it.” Gwen pulled on her mask, “I just… when Noir fell, one of the Demons shot the vial with the Quantum Energy molecules in them. It made a sort of crazy reaction. The molecule split, and now there are five little glowing pieces in it.”

“Why is this important?” Peter B. asked while he furrowed his eyebrows.

“It means five of us can have a molecule and travel interdimensionally.”

Ham’s hand squeezed Noir’s tighter. “There are six of us.”

“I’m okay with not having one as long as you guys visit a lot,” Miles said, volunteering himself. 

Noir shook his head, “Not happening, kid. You deserve to be able to travel to see whoever you want. I’m the one that got us into this mess, so I’ll be the one goin’ without the particle.”

They all seemed to mull it over before hesitantly agreeing. “We’ll visit you!’’ Peni swore, holding her pinky out to her black-and-white counterpart. He stared at the pinky. 

“Why are you doing that?”

“It’s a pinky promise.”

“What?”

“Just hold out your pinky.”

Peni interlinked Noir’s and her own pinky together as a promise. 

“Now that we have that sorted, let's go home.” Ham jumped around a bit with cartoonish excitement. 

“Let’s do this thing,” Miles agreed and pulled down his mask. 

🕷 🕷 🕷

Fortunately, when Noir was fighting memories were warded off. It was like the feeling of fists and the thrill of kicking men who have been too horrid made his memories want to merely sit and watch. 

 

Maybe that was one of the contributing factors to how he became Spider-Man. Maybe not.  
A Devil put a hand on Noir’s shoulder when he goes to sit up. “Stay down, Spidey,” they said.

Noir has made a habit of never listening to people who spend their days terrorizing others, so instead, he pulled himself up and slammed a fist into the stomach of the unfortunate opponent. Noir felt dizzy and wrong, like something in him broke after falling down. He was mildly concerned about the noise ringing in his ears from an explosion earlier, but he ignored it. 

“Hey guys,” Peni shouted over the commotion, “I could use a bit of help.”

Noir got there first.

Noir sensed the bullet coming from nearly the moment the click of the trigger is set off. He instantly realized it’s not aimed at him, but Peni.  
_Not again,_ he thought to himself before he slung his web in front of the bullet, effectively rescuing SP//dr from a debilitating shot.

“Thanks,” Peni shouted. Noir grunted in his reply before he turned back to smack some poor fella in the face.

He knocked an arrow out of the air before he grabbed a man's bow and walloped him in the stomach with it. “Glad these are back in style, they’re fun to hit people with.”

“I’m going to kill you,” the man snarled. He attacked with a big right overhand punch. Noir easily stepped out of range.

An animal snarl clawed its way up the Demon’s throat. He lunged and grabbed at Noir’s coat, an unfortunate weak spot when it comes to high stakes battles like this one. He slammed Noir into the wall. Then he was burying punches, over and over again.

Noir barely managed to push the Devil off him before Ham was there, smacking the Devil with a mallet that came out of nowhere. 

_I’ll have to ask him for one of those,_ Noir thought. 

“Before you ask, I only have one mallet left, and I promised Peni she could have it.”

Noir fought off a huff before he flipped a foe onto his back. “When you come to visit bring me one. Those things are snazzy.”

“Just because you know how to use the word snazzy doesn’t mean you should, dear.”

“I do what I want, doll.”

“Can you guys flirt after the battle? It’s very distracting.” Peter B. said a sickening crunch of a gunman’s face followed. 

Ham looked around. “I don’t see anyone else rearing to fight. Seems like we got ‘em all.”

They all surveyed the area before they agreed. 

“We’re all awesome,” Peni said. “Especially you, Miles. You’ve come really far.”

“Yeah, man. We’re proud of you,” Peter B. agreed, ruffling the boy's hair.

 _We’re proud of you_ May’s voice echoed in Noir’s head. He shook it away. He refused to let the past take away his present. 

The past has done enough. It was an elaborate put-on that Noir swore he would fall for no more. Now he wanted to focus on his friends, the present, and what he could do to make his future better. Rather than letting his past haunt him, he will let it remind him of how much better things have become since. 

Banging sounded off at the warehouse walls. “Not to be that guy, but I think it’s ‘bout time we fly the coop, fellas.”

“Guess this is goodbye, then,” Peni whispered sadly. 

Noir gently patted her back. “Not goodbye. Not this time. Think of it as a see you later.”

Everyone grinned. 

“I’m guessin’ I go through first, then? Since I ain’t got one of those thingamajigs with me.”

The realization that the molecules might not work set in quietly. Peter B. gulped, “I guess so. Be safe, bud. I’d hate to see my favorite MCR fan die from a molecule given to us by an ant.”

“Yeah, that’d be a pretty lame way to go,” Noir agreed. He turned to the youngest members of his newfound family. “Peni, Gwen, Miles,” he said, holding out his hand for a shake. Instead, they hugged him. Except for Gwen, who gave him what she calls a ‘fist bump.’  
_Imma have to try to find a way to bring these fist bumps into my universe. They’re pretty swell._

Noir felt a tug at his coat. Ham reached his hand up, fist clenched. “We can plan a date or something if uh… if you want.” Ham glanced up shyly before puffing up his chest to continue his hotshot demeanor. 

“I’m lookin’ forward to it, dollface.” 

He took off his mask to look them all in the eyes one last time. “You all mean a lot to me. Visit soon,” he smiles at them. “You all stay safe, now.”

He swiveled around to the machine they fought so hard to get to. It all felt so anti-climatic. Felt like something was missing. Maybe something was. Maybe there wasn’t. Only time would tell, and Noir was ready to look forward instead of back for once.  
Peter B. threw something into the machine. It was too small to see, but Noir knew it was the molecule. 

Noir took a deep breath, listening to everyone talk amongst themselves one last time. “This thing is heavy!” Peni yelled, a smash following. Ham gave her the mallet, Noir assumed. He jumped into the portal. 

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

“No, really, Sarah, it’s gonna catch on. I swear it.” Noir insisted. He had shown Sarah the fist bump. She thought it was ridiculous. 

“I doubt that, pretty boy. Where did you even learn this? It’s complete malarkey.”

“A friend showed me.”

“You have other friends?”

Noir smiled gently. “I do, indeed. Don’t worry. You’re still the only friend I stole soap for, I promise.”

She snorted. “You’ve changed a lot since your trip, it’s nice. You’re less…” she searched for the right word. “You don’t seem as broken up inside. You zone out a lot less. It’s nice.”

Noir had told Sarah he had gone on a trip to Florida to clear his head. Rather than seeming like an oddball and telling her he had been in a different dimension altogether. Besides, Florida was basically a different universe in itself. 

“Boffing an alligator or two does that to you, I suppose.” 

Sarah stared out the window, a puzzled look on her face. “Is… is that a pig?”

Noir turned and found where Sarah was staring. “Well, I’ll be…” Noir fumbled around in his pocket for a Lincoln. “I just remembered I have something very important to do.” Noir threw down five dollars to pay for their meal before he dashed out the door.

“Ham!” The swine seemed less colorful, the brightness was more muted, but he was still a rainbow to this world. He lacked the black and white pallet everyone else seemed to sport. Instead, his usual colors just seemed like ashy versions of themselves. Contrasted with the greys, he was beautiful. 

“Ohh, geez. What happened?” Ham rubbed his head, a lump grew on it. Little birds flew around his head. “You alright there, hotshot?” Noir asked as he helped his friend up. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I was wonderin’ if you could point me in the direction of someone. Broody, taller than me by a whole lot. Kind of a cross between the sweetest person ever and the weirdest.”

Noir rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should try lookin up before askin’ that, doll.”

Ham glanced up, and a big blush covered his cheeks. It was almost comical, but the first word Noir thought was ‘adorable.’

“You came,” Noir whispered. It had only been a week, but the week had been agonizing. He took down German American Bund after a particularly head-on fight with a Nazi. He had enjoyed dolling out punishments once again, especially to those who deserved it most. Despite this, Noir had missed the feeling of holding someone close without having to hide his greatest secret from them. He had missed Ham. It was only a week, he knew, but the longing he felt burning in his chest lasted a lifetime. 

“I did,” Ham grabbed Noir’s hand. ‘You never should’ve thought I wouldn’t. I’ll always be here for you, I might be a little late sometimes, but you can’t exactly catch a taxi from one universe to the other.”

“I suppose so.” Noir began to lead Ham to the train. “I’m glad you came, dollface.”

“I was promised a date, and I’m not one to stand people up.” The smile in his voice was evident. Even in this dreary world, things were brighter around him. Noir could almost swear he left footprints in color. He peeked back to make sure. While the sidewalk was lacking color where Ham had walked, it seemed brighter, like the grey was trying to pull away and be something more. Noir hoped it would. Maybe then he’d truly believe he had met Porker, that this wasn’t just a dream. 

“Not that I don’t love the subway, but why are we going down here?” Ham questioned and pulled Noir’s hand close to his chest. 

“It’s a surprise. You’ll love it.”

Small hearts floated up from Ham’s head. “If it’s with you, I’m sure I will.” 

“Get a room, lovebirds!” Some punk shouted. Noir snorted in annoyance before he dragged Ham onto the train. He held his hand tight like if he let go he would float away. Ham didn’t complain. 

When they arrived, Noir began to grin from ear to ear. He had never shown anyone this place. His Uncle Ben had introduced him to this place, it was strangely magical despite its simplicity. They stepped off the train, and Noir dragged Ham behind him, excitement bubbled in his chest, pushing away the nervousness. 

They stepped out of the turnstile and into the treasure that was the 59th street Columbus Circle stop. “I know it ain’t much, but it’s the best place in the city. I thought you ought to see it.”

Ham stood in silence and took it all in. The nervousness began to pop the bubbles of excitement in Noir’s stomach. 

“It’s gorgeous. You sure this is a train station? This has got to be an allusion or something.”

Noir sighed in relief. “I’m sure. Let’s go eat,” Noir insisted, grinning down at his partner- lover? No, that’s got too many weird connotations. Partners they were, then. 

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

The time with Ham was magical. Noir never knew to love with all his heart felt as incredible as Ham made it seem. 

“Thank you for coming,” Noir whispered into Ham’s ear. They were nuzzled up together on Noir’s couch, the radio provided white noise to keep everything comfortable. 

Noir glanced down to see floppy pink ears and a snout. Ham hummed in response. “You don’t need to thank me. I wanted to see you.”

Noir bit his lip and worried at it. His brows furrowed. He thought about all the times people had died because of him, how many times he had been left behind. Would Ham be another one? Would he be different? Noir could only wait to see. 

“You’re thinkin’ too much. Just believe me when I say I’m not going anywhere. Secondary locations aren’t really my thing,” Ham mumbled, turning to look at Noir.  
Noir smiled. He kissed Ham gently on the forehead. It was a simple action, but it held more emotion than Noir had ever dared to show to anyone before. All of this love, this passion, reserved for his love. Ham’s eyes turned to hearts.

“I love you,” Noir said quietly and stared into Ham’s eyes. 

“And I, you. Don’t think otherwise.”

Noir pulled him closer. _I’m so dizzy with this swine. The world could stop, and as long as he was here, I don’t think I would mind._

Ham was fast asleep, little z’s and hearts floating above his head. It made Noir smile. He stroked Ham’s cheek and pulled a blanket over them both. 

He pulled Ham back into his arms and went to sleep.

They’d deal with Ham going back home in the morning. But for now, the arms that kept them grounded were more important than the balance of the universe.

 

🕷 🕷 🕷

 

‘They’re adorable!” Miles argued and gestured to the pair on the couch. 

Peni nodded sagely. “Definitely adorable.”

“Not adorable. Sweet, but not adorable. Adorable is reserved for puppies,” Peter B. argued. Gwen agreed. 

Noir threw a couch-pillow in the general direction of their voices. “If you’re gonna randomly appear in my universe, at least keep quiet. Ham’s still asleep.” 

“Nope, I’m awake thanks to the commotion.”

Noir looked up at everyone gathered around. Each of them held a grin on their faces, and their happiness brightened the room itself.

 _Loss may have been a constant, but this family of mine can make love my new constant._

If the grey tones of his world seemed to give way to muted colors rather than black and white, well… he didn’t mention it.  
Joy was a welcome change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this fic. I'm kinda happy with my writing development over the course of the fic. Thanks for joining me on this journey. Remember to kudos/comment. Love you guys. Have a good whatever time it is where you are.


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